White Blank Page - DenNor
by Jini-Sama
Summary: It is the anniversary of Norway's independence, and Denmark has locked himself up in his house, refusing to speak to anyone and bursting out into fits of rage if anyone tries to visit him. What he doesn't know is that Norway is standing outside his bedroom door listening to him cry, and contemplating on how to confront the man about his feelings.


**Read & review please!**_  
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_Knock, knock._

Denmark bluntly ignored the sound of rapping on the door to his house, not wanting anything to do with the outside world or the people in it.

_Knock, knock._

"Go away!" the Danish man yelled, glaring at the wall. Whoever was knocking did not knock again. Denmark stood up from the wooden chair he was sitting and stormed up the long set of stairs to his luxurious bedroom, slamming the door ridiculously hard. He lost it then, tears streaming down his cheeks from his already red eyes and throwing anything and everything he could get his hands on.

Sounds of glass shattering against concrete walls could be heard from anyone nearby, as well as screams of anguish and sadness. Denmark grabbed a photograph and prepared to throw that as well, but then he saw the image it contained - himself and Norway, during the happier times, while the latter had lived with him.

He crumbled to the floor, clutching the image and sobbing, the big, salty tears wetting the floor that lay beneath him. Memories of the good times they had had together flashed through his mind as he cried over the one loss of many.

_"You're an idiot, Denmark."_

_"Shut it Dane."_

_"Dumbass.."_

While Norway had mainly spoken insults to Denmark, he treasured them like a rare jewel, carrying the words and keeping them in his heart. "What did I do wrong?" he murmured, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Where was my fault..? I loved you.. Still do." Denmark's voice broke, and he collapsed into another fit of heart-breaking cries of loss, anguish, and sadness.

Norway stood outside the door to Denmark's mass of a house, staring at the lock, contemplating on whether or not he should use the key he had when he lived with the Dane and unlock the door, opening it to who knows what. Today was the anniversary of his winning independence from Denmark, and though he was proud of this achievement, he also knew what grief it caused the Danish man.

Making up his mind, Norway stuck his key in the lock and twisted it, pulling it out as he opened the door, preparing for the worst.

As expected, the inside of the house was a horrid sight to behold. Tables and chairs were turned over and broken, ripped papers scattered around the spacious living room, shattered glass and plate shards strewn around the floor, photo frames shattered; it was a complete mess.

Norway did his best to avoid the potentially harmful mess as he crossed over the room and up the stairs, where he was certain Denmark was. As he reached the second floor, the wails he had heard downstairs were much louder and clearer than they were before, no longer muffled by the half-wall that stood between the first and second floors. The Norwegian flinched at the anguish clear in the screams as he approached Denmark's master bedroom, the door looking as if it had been run over by a monster truck and then glued back to the handles. He stared at it, beginning to rethink his decision to come. But as Denmark's sobs continued, he felt himself sulk slightly as he gave in and opened the door gently.

Denmark looked up at the creaking sound of his smashed door opening, his eyes widening in anger and surprise at the intrusion. Mostly anger. But when he saw who it was, any thought of murder vanished as he stared at the Norwegian who had left him so many years ago. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He couldn't speak, he couldn't _think _as he stared in shock.

"Denmark," Norway said simply, walking over to the Danish man who was still on his knees. "You've made such a huge mess. All over me?" He stared down at the Dane, violet eyes glimmering with something no one could quite identify. Denmark wanted to speak, say something, anything, to the man that stood above him, but at the moment, any words he wanted to say escaped him.

"Come on, up you go." Norway reached out and grasped Denmark's trembling hand, pulling him to his unsteady feet. For a minute, the two just stared at each other, neither saying a word. Finally, Denmark found his voice and began speaking in a low murmuring tone as he grabbed Norway's shoulders.

"Why are you here? What do you want to do with me? You left…" Denmark trailed off, hands slipping back down to his sides and his head moving to lay on Norway's shorter form, silent tears slipping from his blood-red eyes to land on Norway's dress shirt. Norway didn't respond at first, letting Denmark lean on him; god knows he needed a shoulder to cry on.

Though always being one to tell things how they are, Norway found the words he needed to say lodged in his throat, wanting to come out but no, locked there until someone came along and kicked them out. Finally, he found the correct words to speak. "I've realized that though I'm independent, I do need someone, and this someone needs to be one I care about very much."

Denmark was not an idiot, and what Norway had said clicked in his head, though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Though he wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. Denmark removed his face from Norway's shoulder and instead crashed his lips into the other's, a gentle but very much firm kiss that make Norway have to take a step back to steady himself while returning Denmark's affection. He ran his hands through Denmark's wild, fluffy hair as Denmark wrapped his arms around the other's waist, pulling him closer and trying to get as much physical contact as possible.

God, Denmark had missed Norway. He had wanted to do this for so long, to kiss him firmly, to run his hands along the other's body and shower him with all of the love and care he deserved. He clinged to the smaller man as if he were his life line, presser his lips harder against the other's as he did, the kiss no longer gentle but hard, possessive, making the smaller man squirm and whimper in discomfort and try to pull away.

But no, no, Denmark wouldn't let him go. He had no intention of doing anything of the sort. Norway was _his_, and damnit to hell he was going to have him. He had lost him once, he was _not_ going to lose him again. Norway was struggling harder now, his eyes wide with sparks of fear as he tore himself away from the Dane, gasping for air. _"Damnit Denmark, what the hell was that about?"_Norway demanded, wiping the bit of blood that had emerged from a small cut on his lip away.

Denmark snapped back to reality, staring at Norway with puppy-dog eyes full of fear and innocence. "Norge, I-I'm sorry.. I don't want to lose you again." The tall Dane approached Norway and wrapped his arms around him in an embrace, burying his face in the other's shoulder and clutching the cloth of Norway's shirt tightly, as if to assure himself that Norway was in fact here, in his home, and not a figment of his imagination.

Norway was at a loss for words at Denmark's strange actions. "Idiot.." was all he could muster up to say as he returned the hug, if a little hesitantly. Denmark smiled a bit at the gesture, his eyes fluttering closed as he muttered a single sentence that brought a smile and tears to Norway's eyes.

_"Happy Independence Day, Norge."_


End file.
